Rising of the Hell Hounds
by Twilightstar7
Summary: When Lilith begins to break a seal that will kill hundreds of innocents, Sam, Dean and Castiel must over come their problems and stop her. Slightly AU. Rated T for Langauge and violence. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everybody! This is my first supernatural fanfiction, so I hope that you all like it! This fic takes place after episode 4.16 and in case you don't know which episode 4.16 is, it's the epsisode in which Dean has to torture Alastair and Castiel is betrayed by Uriel. The rating for this fic is T for some language and violience later on. If the rating ends up higher in a certain chapter, I'll let you know at the begining of the chapter.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own anything to do with Supernatural (a girl can dream though, right?)

Rising of the Hell Hounds

Chapter One

Dean lay awake on top of the cruddy motel bed. It was still pitch dark outside, so being in a waking state at this hour would have been unnatural, except in cases of insomnia, for any person. But Dean wasn't a normal person. He was a hunter, which outlawed him from most things normal. The fact that he had been to hell back got rid of the few things that were left, including a semi-normal sleeping pattern. This had been replaced attempting to sleep at night and after about three hours of rest waking due to a nightmare ensued, keeping him up for the rest the night. Sleep was achieved at small intervals during the day that followed. The careful scheduling of periods of sleep only resulted in a about another three hours of rest. The amount time that was amassed by this was a mere six hours out of the twenty-four that made up the day. Especially when the Apocalypse was nigh.

The exhausted hunter turned his head towards that bed where his little brother should be. Sam should be sprawled awkwardly on the lumpy mattress and snoring as his always did, but he wasn't. Dean had tried his best to convince himself that nothing was wrong with Sam, but his attempts were failing. He had begun to see a frightening pattern in Sam. The younger hunter would return from one of his nightly disappearances strong and capable. Then, slowly, Sam would go downhill. He would become irritable and anxious. This would only end when Sam left in the middle of the night and returned seemingly well again, restarting the cycle.

He turned away from the empty bed to face the peeling beige wallpaper and tried to pretend that Sam was there and that everything was alright. He squeezed his eyes shut and entered the world that he so very desperately wished existed. Sam was a successful lawyer, he was married to Jess, and he had the normal life that he had wanted so very desperately. Mom and Dad were still alive and they're growing old together in their quiet, Kansas home. Bobby was happily running his salvage yard full time and his wife is alive and well. Ellen had never lost her husband and the two were proud to see that their daughter, Jo, was doing well in college and felt that she belonged there. Castiel was a faithful servant of the Lord who did not know the pain of being betrayed by his own brothers and sisters. Lilith, Ruby and Azazel didn't exist. The Apocalypse wasn't happening and it wasn't going to any time soon. The only thing that wasn't complete in this world was that Dean did not know where to place himself. He had never had or dreamed about having a life other that being a hunter, but he had been hunting long enough to know that he ought to want something else.

"Dean," a gruff monosyllable yanked him from his silent contemplation. It was immediately realized that the voice did not belong to Sam. Dean did not move, save for the motion of his fingers slipping around the worn hilt of the dagger that lay under his pillow. He waited for any whisper of movement, anything that would allow him to know where to strike. "Dean." The voice repeated and the speaker was recognized. Dean relaxed his grip on the gun.

"What do you need Cas?" Dean asked tiredly and rolled over to face the angel.

"A seal is being broken," Castiel explained in a grave tone.

"Which one," Dean inquired as he sat up and ran a hand over his haggard face.

"The Rising of the Hell Hounds," The angel replied as he glanced over his shoulder towards the empty bed, "Where is Sam?"

"He went for a walk," Dean lied quickly, remembering Castiel's warning to keep Sam from any "extracurricular" activities.

"At 3:00 in the morning?" Castiel asked, his brow creasing with confusion.

"Um...yeah...he couldn't sleep," Dean stumbled over his words; he gave the angel a look that he hoped was sincere. Luckily, Castiel seemed to believe him, probably accepting this as another human behavior that he did not yet understand.

"He will return soon?" Castiel inquired further, clearly impatient, "Time is of the essence, and you of all should understand this."

"Yeah… he'll be back soon," Dean said in hoarse voice remembering his last encounter with a Hell Hound. The pain of having his body torn to shreds and the agony of his soul being dragged into the depths of the pit was all too fresh in his mind.

"Regarding your brother Dean…" Cas began, his face drawn in concentration, trying to choose his words carefully, "we need to talk-"

"No!" Dean hissed and the angel gave Dean a look that was filled with regret and sadness. "Not now…please. Just tell me the details of the seal and how to stop it," Dean pleaded, wanting desperately to launch himself into the work that made all of his other troubles seem contrite and insignificant.

"Yes, in order for Lilith to break the seal she must raise several packs of Hell Hounds from the pit at different locations," Cas paused to let information to sink and then continued, "How many Hell Hounds she will raise is unknown, but it is the number of people they must kill that breaks the seal."

"And how many is that?" Dean swallowed, liking this less and less by the second.

"Six hundred and sixty six people," Cas answered, then pausing again, not to allow information to sink in, but to allow for Dean's wordless, outraged reaction. "They can't be just any people though. They must be of pure innocence and the only ones who qualify for this are…"

"Kids," Dean croaked looking at Castiel in horror, "Lilith is going to kill over six hundred children."

"Yes," Castiel answered, his blue eyes filling with even more sadness, "and anyone else who stands in their way."

"Cas, how are we going to stop this?" Dean questioned. One of the vicious, invisible beasts would have been a problem. Two of them had the potential to be devastating. Any more than that would be…apocalyptic. How many Hounds would Lilith raise? Dean supposed that the number would depend on how many Hounds constituted a pack and how packs were liberated from Hell. Another question screamed through his mind, demanding to be answered. Could you even kill a Hell Hound?

"To be perfectly honest Dean, I do not know if we can," Castiel said in a voice that was barely above a whisper, his shoulders sagging even further, "I have prayed to my father for assistance, but no answer has come. My siblings who are still loyal and I have devised a plan. There have been signs of a rising in several large cities. We will each go to a city and attempt to save the seal."

"That's just great, Cas," Dean exclaimed sarcastically, "I've got three questions though. One, which city are we going to? Two, do you even know how to stop a Hell Hound? Three, are you sure that you can trust your siblings? Because if they don't hold up their end of the deal, a lot of people are going to die."

"We are going to New York City. To stop the pack of Hell Hounds we must kill the demon that Lilith has placed in charge of the pack," Castiel was able to answer the first two questions without blinking, but it was the last one that gave him trouble. The pain that seemed to explode in the angel's eyes was enough to make Dean regret his question. "The answer to your final question would have to be no, Dean. I cannot be sure with of my brothers and sisters remain loyal to our and which have switched loyalties to our brother, Lucifer, but I must have faith. I must have faith that it is not the Lords will for the murder of so many innocents and that he has given me loyal siblings to help save them."

Dean opened his mouth to offer up some sort of apology or words of comfort, but could find none. What could he possibly say to Castiel? He has never known the pain of truly being betrayed by his brother. Sure there had been a few times when Sammy was under a spell, but that was all. Sam had never really meant it, at least he hoped he hadn't. Dean shook his head in a vain attempt to clear the doubt from his mind. If he couldn't trust his own brother, who could he trust?

Sam sped down the highway in the glossy, black Chevy Impala. He was going at least twenty miles over the speed limit, but didn't care. All that mattered was that he felt great. Demon blood was pumping through his veins, making him feel unstoppable and the large canteen filled with the crimson substance in his coat pocket, reassured him that this high would last a sufficient amount of time. The high was not pure enjoyment though. There was some regret that came with it.

He had agreed with Ruby that telling Dean about his dinking of Demon blood to enhance his powers would be a bad idea and that there meetings must be kept a secret. Dean wouldn't understand and would instantly condemn it as wrong. He wouldn't see the benefits. He wouldn't see that Sam was getting stronger and if he kept it up, soon he would be able to kill Lilith. Sam was now strong enough to kill a Demon as powerful as Alastair. Wasn't that a good thing? Sam sure thought so and he so very desperately wanted to share it with his older brother, but Ruby was right. Telling Dean wouldn't bring anyone anything beneficial.

Sam finally slowed the car down when he reached the parking lot and went over his lie to Dean if he should be awake when he returned. He would tell Dean that he had a headache and he'd gone out to get some Aspirin. Sam grabbed the pharmacy bag with the bottle of pain killers and headed towards the room. He unlocked the door with the utmost care to not jiggle the key and make any extra noise. This action, however, was not necessary, seeing as Dean was sitting in an upright, facing a dark headed figure clad in a tan trench coat.

"Dean…Cas, what's going on," Sam asked uneasily. Castiel had witnessed him exorcise and kill Alastair. What if he had informed Dean of this? His brother's devastated features suggested that the angel may have sold him out.

"Lilith is breaking another seal, Sammy," Dean answered, replacing Sam's old fear with new ones. What atrocity did Lilith have to commit to break the seal? Was this the last seal that she needed to break to free Lucifer from his prison in Hell?

"Which one?" he asked, looking to his older brother who looked much more tired than usual. Dean nodded to Cas to explain and the angel complied. Sam felt the entirety of his being filling with dread as he heard more and more about the rising of the Hell Hounds. With his demon blood enhanced psychic abilities he could easily end the demon that was controlling the Hell Hounds, but whether or not he had any effect on the invisible beasts was unknown to him. Castiel had been unable to exorcise Alastair, something he had been able to do easily, so it was safe to say that Cas didn't have anything special up his sleeve to kill the hounds. With all of this information freshly amassed in his mind, Sam concluded that setting out to stop the breaking of this seal seemed akin to setting out on a suicide mission. "Do we even have a chance a beating this thing?" Sam inquired.

"We must try," Castiel insisted, fixing Sam with a blue eyed stare.

"Have we even got a plan?" Sam asked looking desperately from one companion to the other.

"We gank the S.O.B that's controlling the Hounds and chase the bastards back to Hell."

Please review! Let me know if you liked it and if you didn't, let me know, but please put it in the form of constructive criticsm so I can make the changes in the next chapter. I will try to update this fic at least once a week. Have a wonderful day!


	2. Chapter 2

Heres the second chapter! Sorry it took so long!

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural (even though I wish for it every day)

Rising of the Hell Hounds

Chapter Two

Castiel stood atop one the skyscrapers of New York City. He stood a careful distance away from the edge so that no one in the bustling crowd below would see him and give rise to some unnecessary panic. Castiel closed his eyes and extended his grace to search for the evil that would signify the specific rising place of the Hounds. Even with the power of Heaven on his side, this was no easy task. The city was filled with evil.

One sweep of his grace turned up things that are extremely troubling to the Angel. They have nothing to do with the rising, but are almost equally disturbing. There was drug use, violence, sex, alcoholism, thievery, murder, hatred and general human to human cruelty. Pain and sadness filled his soul and he called his grace back, not wanting see anymore. As a faithful servant of the Lord, Castiel tried his best to love all of his father's creations and it hurt him to see the evil that could come from those that were considered the most beloved. He took a deep breath and re-extended his grace, searching for the Rising place. He encountered the same bitterness, but he did not falter and Castiel found that underneath that unattractive exterior, there was something beautiful. There was goodness and innocence. There were children playing in the park, there were volunteers gladly serving lunch to the homeless and good friends chatting with each other as they made their way down the crowded sidewalk.

A faint smile was formed by Castiel's lips. There is something in this city worth saving. It could not possibly be his father's will for all of this to be destroyed. With renewed confidence, the Angel continued to search, but it was fruitless, the evil he found was not that of the extraordinary measures needed to raise a pack of beasts. With a frustrated sigh, Castiel tilted his head to the side and listened to the chatter of angelic tongues produced by his siblings. None of them had found a specific Rising place either, but a few, like him, had seen signs that a rising would indeed take place. There were thunderless lightening storms and low magnitude earthquakes in the cities of Detroit, Los Angeles, and Houston. He listened for a few more moments to see if he would be joined by a brother or sister, but he would not. Castiel had not been expecting it. Not with the fact that resources were stretched thin and the rumors that he had more loyalty to the Winchester brothers than any of them.

The rumors hurt and he longed to deny them, but he could not bring himself to do so with conviction. It was true that Castiel had begun to think that, just maybe, Sam and Dean Winchester were his friends. Friendship was something new to him. He had always felt the familial camaraderie with his fellow angels, but none of them had ever been his friend.

Giving up his search, Castiel decided to return to the motel where Sam and Dean were waiting. He extended his wings and within a fraction of a second his was standing in the cramped living space. He was greeted by the normal surprised reaction and Dean's usual request that he not land behind him and scare him.

"Did you find the Rising place," Sam asked, looking up from his beloved laptop.

"No," Castiel answered in a defeated tone, "but my brothers and sisters have confirmed that there will be Risings in the cities of Detroit, Los Angeles, and Houston."

"Did they have any luck finding the specific place?" Dean inquired as popped to top of a bottle of beer.

"No, Lilith must have clocked it," Castiel explained and his gaze shifted towards the six pack of beer beside Dean. He had heard that consuming alcohol could lower one's stress level and Castiel found that he was in need of just that. "May I?" he asked as he reached for one of the dark tinted glass bottles.

"You want a beer?" Dean sputtered, lowering his alcoholic beverage to his knee and Sam looked away from the computer screen

"Yes, I was not aware that I was unclear."

"Sure…have one," Dean obliged and handed a bottle to the outstretched hand of the Angel. Castiel eyed to bottle and applied pressure with his thumb to the cap to pop it off as he had seen Dean do. He applied too much pressure and that cap flew off at a surprising speed and embedded itself into the wall. Castiel ignored to shocked glances exchanged by the Winchesters and drank the dark liquid contents of the bottle in one swig. The end result was disappointment, pure disappointment. The desired effect did not take and as a result his stress level remained dangerously high. He was left with only a bitter taste in his mouth along with a question of how Dean and Sam could ever enjoy this beverage.

Dean drove carefully down the darkened city streets, searching for anything out of the ordinary. All he had found were drug addicts seeking out the chemical substance of their choice, homeless people searching for a place that wasn't quite as cold to spend the night, and prostitutes leaning up against flickering street lamps. It was scenes like these that made Dean question whether or not God really cared all that much about mankind. How could he just sit by and watch as these people lived liked this if he truly cared? Some of them were just kids.

The elder Winchester shook off his mental transgression and continued his search for evidence of the Hell Hounds and the demon that was controlling them. He desperately hoped that he would come across the demon first. A demon he could kill with Ruby's knife. Under force of habit, Dean reached into his coat pocket with his free hand and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the dagger, just to be sure that it was still there. It would be simply disastrous to walk into a fight without it. He dug his hand further into his pocket, past his lighter and felt for the shape of the metal canteen carrying Holy Water. If this demon bastard decided to show his face, he would be ready.

Dean cursed under his breath as he turned out of the neighborhood without finding a trace of anything even slightly demonic. He reached to the empty passenger seat and dialed Sam's number into his cell phone. His little brother and Castiel had gone to Central Park to search for any supernatural on goings. They hadn't called him, so Dean assumed that their search had been as fruitless as his. He nestled the phone between his ear and shoulder and awaited the answer Sam's voice.

Sam dug through the pocket of his dark leather jacket and pulled out the vibrating cell phone. He checked the caller I.D and saw that it was Dean. Perhaps he had found the demon or at least a clue as to where it was located.

"Dean?" Sam answered in a hopeful tone.

"Hey Sammy, you found anything?" Dean's question squashed the hope that he had possessed only a few seconds ago. If Dean had found anything he would have said so already.

"No. You?" He asked even though he knew to answer very well.

"Damn it Sam! How the hell are we supposed to find this thing if it doesn't leave behind signs?"

"I don't know Dean," Sam answered despairingly, "I just don't know."

"I'm going to head back to the motel, you and Cas should do the same," Dean suggested with a heavy sigh, "We aren't going to find anything else tonight."

"Alright-" Sam was cut off by a heavy hand being placed on his shoulder. He spun around, fists clenched, ready to face the potential opponent. In his haste he dropped his cell phone. The sound of its landing was cushioned by the vegetation that lined the walk way. This was all done in vain, seeing as the owner of the hand was Castiel. Sam was about to explain to Cas that it wasn't okay to sneak up on people in the dark, but he noticed the fear in the Angel's widened blue eyes.

"We must leave Sam," Castiel said as he gripped his shoulder tighter and Sam felt his feat leave the pavement. Sam felt the breath ripped from his lungs. Human beings weren't meant to travel at this speed. Not that Cas transporting him anywhere had ever felt right, but the landing was wrong. It felt as though an icy cold hand grabbed the pair and yanked them back to the asphalt.

While gasping for air, Sam scrabbled to sit up and identify his location. The same icy cold hand that has plucked him from flight forced him back down. His head hit the unforgiving surface with an unpleasant smack. Disoriented from the cranial blow, Sam was only vaguely aware of his older brother's voice screaming from the accidently discarded cell phone. His eyes sluggishly searched for the still unseen assailant. To the left of him, he saw Castiel's unconscious form sprawled on the grass that grew alongside the walking path.

Suddenly a black clad figure appeared by Sam's side. He could have been tall, but then again, from Sam's current position anyone would have appeared tall. The man's hair matched the color of his clothing. His eyes were blackened as well, the trademark sign of a demon. _Well you're in for a rude surprise buddy_, Sam thought triumphantly as he focused on his powers. Nothing happened. Sam tried again and the bastard didn't even flinch. He did laugh thought. It was a horrible, haunting laugh that mocked Sam's efforts.

"Did you honestly think that would work on me?" the demon cackled, tilting his head in a way that was oddly similar to the way that Cas did it.

"Go to Hell!" Sam retorted gruffly, unable to think of a more appropriate response.

"Been there, done that," the demon taunted in a sing song voice and reached down and gripped Sam's chin in his hand, "You know, I really should kill you for trying your little "wonder girl" powers on me."

"Then do it!" Sam challenged as he stared the demon right in the eyes, hoping that the fear that he felt didn't show.

"Nope!" he refused with false cheeriness as he released Sam's chin and let it fall back to pavement, causing another explosion of pain in the back of his skull. "I think that I'm going to let you and Dean see my handiwork first…then I'll kill you."

"Who are you?" Sam demanded even thought he was in no place to be asking questions.

"Who am I? Why I'm Abbadon!" he exclaimed excitedly, "you can ask my little brother over there more about me when he comes to. See ya later Sammy!"

"Wait! What!" Sam cried out, but his cries fell only on the unhearing ears of Castiel. Sam slumped back on to the pavement and allowed the comforting blackness associated with unconsciousness wash over him.

I hope you all liked it! Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Here's the third chapter! Thankyou to those who have been reading this story!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Sam, Dean, or Catiel :(

Rising of the Hell Hounds

Chapter 3

"Sam! Sammy! Answer me damn it!" Dean yelled into his cell as he sped down the streets, the tires of the impala squealing at every turn. He threw the phone into the passenger seat that he wished so desperately to be filled with Sam. It was time to give up trying to get an answer from the contraption. Every fiber of his being was screaming with fear. _Please…no…don't let this happen again_, Dean pleaded to the God that he didn't quite believe in. The memories of seeing Sam walking towards him, injured, but smiling, came flooding back. He must have thought that he was safe. Then came the nightmarish figure that rose up behind Sam to stab his little brother in the back. Remembering the confusion that filled Sam's eyes as his knees hit the dirt made bile rise up in the back of Dean's throat. _Never again! _Dean thought as he slammed his foot on the accelerator.

When he finally reached one of the many entrances of Central Park a new horror washed over him. The park itself was huge and he had absolutely no idea as to which part of it Sam was located. After several minutes of futile search, Dean dialed Sam's number into the phone again. Maybe, just maybe, Sam would answer or maybe he would hear the buzzing of the phone. He waited and listened.

"Dean?" a shaky voice belonging to Sam answered the phone. Dean didn't think that he'd ever heard a more beautiful sound.

"Sammy! Are you hurt? Where are you? Is Cas there with you?"

"Relax, one question at a time Dean. I'm pretty much alright and as to where I am…" Sam paused for what Dean assumed was to assess his surroundings, "I think I'm near the…boat pond and…yeah, Cas is with me. He's out though."

"Alright…boat pond**,"** Dean muttered as he pulled out the crumpled map of the park that Sam had given him earlier. He searched to find some sort of landmark worthy of a place on the map. Behind him there was fountain. The plaque labeled it to be the Bethesda Fountain. "Good news Sam, I'm not that far. I'm headed your way."

"Dean, I met the demon," Sam said as he pushed himself into as standing position and began to make his way over to Castiel.

"I don't suppose it told you its name."

"Yeah, he actually did," Sam answered as he crouched next to the trench coat clad angel, "He said that his name was Abaddon and that he was…."

"What? What did he say Sam," Dean questioned in an urgent tone.

"He said that he was Cas' older brother," Sam explained as he shook Castiel's shoulder and received no response.

"That's…that's…ludicrous Sam! Cas isn't a demon!" Dean sputtered.

"I know that Dean, I was just-," Sam stopped speaking when he noticed the dark crimson, sticky substance on his fingers. His first reaction was to check himself for injuries and when he found none, he turned to his companion. Sam touched the shoulder that he had just shaken and his hand came back bloody. A horrible sense that something was utterly and completely wrong filled Sam. Hadn't Dean told him that Castiel had absorbed several rounds of gun fire into his chest without flinching or shedding a drop of blood the first time that they met? "Dean you better come quick," Sam choked out, "I think that Cas is hurt."

Sam didn't quite hear Dean's response, he wasn't really listening. He knew that Dean would say something about not being too far away whether it was true or not. The younger Winchester gently turned Castiel onto his side to examine his wounds. Sam, a seasoned hunter, was almost sickened by the gashes that ran deep across Castiel's back. If Sam didn't know better he would say that these wounds were caused by a Hell Hound, but the gashes came in groups of five. Just like a human hand. What was even more disturbing was the fact that there were a few blood soaked white feathers plastered to his back

"Sammy!" The familiar voice of his older brother brought a sense of relief. Dean jogged up to him and crouched next to his brother and fallen friend. "What the Hell happened to him?"

"He must have sensed that Abaddon was here or something like that, so he tried to get us back to the motel, but I think the Demon grabbed him by the wings and yanked us back," Sam explained as Dean picked up one of the bloodied white feathers and examined it.

"You don't think that he…uh…ripped his wings clear off…do you?"

"No…of course not…that's not possible…is it?" Sam asked as he exchanged a worried glance with his brother.

"It's not possible," Castiel answered shooting both of the brothers with an annoyed look, "I would have to loose my grace to loose my wings … they do however, happen to be seriously injured."

"How long is going to take for you to heal?" Sam asked.

"Give me…about three hours," Castiel estimated as he moved himself into a sitting position.

"Three hours?" Dean exclaimed, probably surprised that such an injury could be healed in such a short amount of time.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience," Castiel apologized, "I realize that it is quite a long time to wait."

"No, that's not what I meant Cas," Dean said almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the Angel's apology, "I was just thinking that you would need a few days or something."

"I am an angel, Dean," Castiel grumbled as Sam and Dean helped him to his feet, "Requiring more than a few hours to repair myself would be simply absurd."

"How could I have been so naïve?" Dean questioned sarcastically as the trio began the trek back to the Impala.

It was an uncomfortably warm day in the city of Los Angeles. Most people were wearing light summer clothes. Due to this, the heavy leather jacket and darks jeans wearing man leaning against the street lamp seemed extremely out of place. After receiving several odd glances from those passing by, Charoum began to worry that he was not blending in properly. The Angel of silence shifted uncomfortably. He had assumed that the clothing that his vessel, Mathew Foreman, was wearing would be appropriate for public ventures. Human ways never ceased to confuse the habitually taciturn angel.

"Charoum," a female voice addressed him from behind, "I have finished searching the west side of the city and found nothing."

Charoum nodded to his sister, Colopatiron, in acknowledgement. Frustration burned deep within his soul. The task of protecting the innocent was only becoming more and more difficult. It almost seemed like it wasn't worth the cost of being separated form the majority of his family. Being that it seemed that very few of them were loyal to father anymore. There were those that were loyal to Lucifer, who had decided to turn a blind eye towards the atrocities that Lilith was committing to free him from his cage in Hell. Then there were those who had allied themselves with Michael and were taking similar actions towards Lilith because Michael wanted Lucifer to rise. He wanted to end Lucifer because he saw that as the only way to end the conflict and the only way to bring Father back.

Charoum did not believe that Father would come back if Michael and Lucifer had their death match. It would only kill more humans, the very creatures that God had asked them to bow down before. Their deaths would only anger Father further. He would never forgive them for the murder of half of the world. That would only push him further away, but Michael refused to see it this way and he cast away any of those who spoke of it.

"Bother, I have begun to believe that a Rising will not take place here," Colopatiron confided, her violet eyes flashing, "There has been a decrease in signs here and those in Detroit and Houston say that conditions are rapidly returning to normalcy."

_What of New York City?_ He projected his thoughts into his sister's mind, not wishing to communicate verbally. It was yet another human custom that he did not like. Human's spoke too much and did not listen enough.

"The signs have nearly tripled there," Colopatiron answered, "we must join Castiel and the Winchesters. If the Rising only takes place in one city, the pack will be far to large for them to handle on their own."

_I am aware_, Charoum answered, _inform Machideal, Nemamiah, Nisroc, Rhamiel, and Samandireal of our decision and urge them to join us_.

"I will do so and Brother…I have received a disturbing message from Castiel," Colopatiron added, "He says that the Demon controlling the hounds is Abaddon."

_Is he certain?_ Charoum demanded.

"I don't not believe that he would tell me that if he was not certain."

_Then we must make haste._ Charoum tilted his head to the sky and prayed.

In the cities of Houston and Detroit an urgent Angelic message rang out across the skies and five angels spread their wings and flew to the commanded location.

Abaddon gazed out the window of the pent house apartment belonging to his meat suit. The view was excellent, it would be the perfect place to watch his plan unfold. He leaned his forehead against the cool window and gazed at the traffic jammed street below. It only took one small twitch of his pinky finger to flip an obnoxiously yellow taxi on top of the car next to it and just for fun, with the twitch of his thumb he caused the gas tank of another car to explode. With his heightened sense of hearing, the screams below reached his ears easily. _What a lovely sound_, he chimed inside his head, _and there's still more to come. _

"What do have we here?" A deep voice questioned mockingly, "Did Lilith approve this?"

"All Lilith said was that I had to raise a pack of our darling Hounds," Abaddon countered and turned to face Samael, his fallen brother. He couldn't help but admirer his brother's choice for a meat suit. The man he was possessing was tall and built to be a bouncer at a popular club. The man must be absolutely frightening to any average human. "She never said that I couldn't cause a little additional chaos."

"Did she say that you could bring the others, including me along with you?" Samael queried even further and then scratched his nose, which led to three more gas tank explosions and more screams.

"She never said that I couldn't do that either," Abaddon replied, swiping his bangs out of his face with a small hand gesture and four more gas tanks burst into flame, "I am a fallen Angel of Death, Lilith can't honestly expect me to leave this city in one peace, can she? And to destroy it properly, I'll need a little help from my friends."

"I'll be glad to offer my assistance," Samael laughed as five more gas tanks exploded. He walked towards the window and gazed at the fiery mess that had once been a traffic jammed street. His smile melted and Abaddon could sense his brother's mood becoming more serious. "Did Lilith give any specific commands as to how to deal with our angelic company?"

"She didn't, actually. Lilith just said to not let them stop the breaking of the seal," Abaddon mused, his mood not nearly as serious a Samael's, "It sounds like we could be pretty creative on that aspect."

"What are you to chatting about," the recently appeared Demon asked. The Demon happened to be Vestis and his specialty was corruption. Judging by his business attire, Abaddon guessed that he had just returned from a day of corrupting those on Wall Street.

"Oh nothing," Samael replied offhandedly, "Just admiring the mess we made below. How was Wall Street?"

"Ugh! It was so boring," Vestis, complained as he loosened his red, silk tie, "The humans there practically corrupt themselves! I mean, seriously, back in the day I actually had to work a little!"

"Back in the day you used to complain about having to work at all," Abaddon cackled and the other two Demons in the room joined in. As Abaddon laughed he came to one conclusion: being was awesome!

Thanks for reading! Please review! It makes me smile :)


	4. Chapter 4

Heres the 4th chapter! Thankyou to all of you have been reading! I hope that you all like it.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Supernatural

Rising of the Hell Hounds

Chapter 4

Sam absent-mindedly picked at the green paint that had been poorly applied to the bench in which he was seated. After successfully dislodging a large chunk of the evergreen colored paint, he checked on Dean's progress in the pretzel stand line. Leave it to Dean to decide that, in the midst of the Apocalypse that procuring a giant soft pretzel was a priority. Knowing that it wouldn't be much use protesting, Sam had decided to humor his brother along the terms that Dean buy a News Paper at the stand as well. Their only hope of finding Abaddon in the city lay in whether or not the Demon had committed some newsworthy evil.

This wouldn't be completely out of the question, seeing as it was Abaddon. Castiel had explained that Abaddon had been an Angel of death who had made a habit of snatching up souls before they were destined to die and causing chaos in general in the lives of people. Upon discovering this, with the fact that Abaddon had vocalized his disapproval of the casting out of Lucifer, Michael ripped out Abaddon's wings and forced him deep into the pit. It was there that his grace was twisted to sin. Castiel also had warned them that his brother found opportunities to torture human souls irresistible and the only reason that he hadn't killed them when he had the chance was because he had a plan to painfully end them on a later date.

"Got the paper Sam," Dean exclaimed through a mouthful of soft pretzel, "I already flipped through it and there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but the guy who owned the pretzel stand had his radio on and apparently there were about fifteen car explosions on one stretch of street a few blocks away from here about an hour ago."

"Do they know what caused it?"

"Nah, they haven't got a clue," Dean answered, "but get this, according a witness account, before the explosions started, a Taxi spontaneously flipped over onto the car next to it."

"Sounds like Demonic intervention to me," Sam inferred, glad that they finally had a lead, "Did you catch the name of the street?"

"I…um…got kinda distracted when that part came up," Dean admitted as he shifted uncomfortably on the wooden bench and took another bite of his pretzel.

"By what, Dean? What could have been so important?" Sam hissed in annoyance.

"I noticed this hot chick checking me out. Okay? I got a bit sidetracked," Dean confessed and then pointed to a woman standing by the pretzel stand, "See! That's her! You can't possibly say that she isn't distracting."

Sam studied the woman for a moment and came to the conclusion that Dean was correct, she was quite attractive. It wasn't only her looks that made her stand out, it was her attire. Her shorts and T-shirt were hardly appropriate for the chilly New York weather. Most people were wearing winter jackets and had their arms wrapped around them to keep out the cold, when her posture indicated that she wasn't the least bit bothered with it. The pale, dark headed woman also seemed to treat her surroundings with arbitrary detachment. Occasionally, her violet eyes would flick in the direction of the Winchesters, giving Sam the eerie feeling that she was watching them.

"I think she's watching us Dean," Sam whispered and received an incredulous look from his older brother.

"Us? Don't flatter yourself, Sam. She's definitely checking _me_ out."

"That's not what I mean!" Sam scowled, "Just watch for a minute and you'll notice something weird about her."

"You're just jealous," Dean laughed and obeyed. Sam watched his brother's triumphant grin fade to a frown. "Damn it! Why do all the hot girls we meet turn out to be weirdoes?"

"What should we do?" Sam asked as his mind scrambled to come up with a game plan. His organization of thoughts was interrupted by the sudden blast of ACDC's Shook me all Night Long coming from Dean's cell phone.

"Hello," Dean answered wondering who could be calling.

"Dean! Dean, can you hear me?" the voice belonging Castiel replied to loudly. Dean had to hold the phone a few inched from his head.

"Yes! I can hear you," Dean said as he rubbed the ear that had recently been assaulted by sound, "You don't need to talk so loud."

"I apologize," the reply came at normal volume, "this is my first time using a telephone."

"Cas, why are you even using a phone?" Dean asked in a worried tone, "Are you okay?"

"I have sustained no physical harm, but it seems as though Abaddon has done something that stops me from locating you," Castiel explained, "At first I was at quite a loss as how to find you, then Machideal came up with the idea of using a phone. It was Nisroc who actually figured out-"

"Whoa! Slow down! Who the hell are Makiwhatshisface and the other guy?" Dean demanded, feeling confused and worried.

"They are my siblings," Castiel answered, sounding slightly offended by Dean's gross mispronunciations of their names, "I am sorry for not telling you earlier. They have come to assist us in fighting Abaddon and the Hounds."

"That's great! How many came?" Dean felt a wave of relief wash over him. Castiel had mentioned two of his fellow Angels, which meant that they had at least three Angels on their side. Surely Abaddon couldn't stand up against three soldiers of God.

"Seven have joined us, but they have only come because New York City is the only place where the Hell Hounds will Rise," he stated gravely, "If this is true then the pack of Hounds will be of disastrous proportions. You must return to the hotel immediately."

"We'll be there in a few, Cas," Dean answered, his throat was suddenly uncomfortably dry. Before Castiel hung up Dean remembered the woman that was watching him and Sam. She had begun to walk towards them. "I don't suppose one your sisters went out to look for us."

"Why yes, Colopatiron left to look for you after becoming impatient with the telephone."

"Is she dark haired with purple eyes?"

"Yes, those are characteristics of her vessel. Why do you ask?"

"Because she's standing right in front of me."

Colopatiron had been observing the Winchester brothers for fifteen minutes before becoming impatient and deciding to approach them. She had seen the elder brother purchase food provisions and the younger one chip green paint off of the public bench. The Angel was perfectly aware that Sam had noticed that she was watching them and had chosen to observe their reactions. If she was to spend time here on earth, she felt that it was vital that she understand the species that had dominated it. Mission not yet completed.

"Come with me," Colopatiron commanded Sam and Dean after an uncomfortable moment of silence that occurred after Dean had turned off his cellular device. Charoum would believe that attempting to make conversation to be a waste of time, so it made sense to bring them directly to the motel room. She extended her index and middle fingers of each hand and placed a light tap on each of the Winchesters foreheads.

The Angel of Liberation could sense the disorientation associated with the sensation of unnatural flight in the boys and the brief moment of panic that came due to the sudden change in their surroundings. These emotions aroused a curiosity in her. What would it be like to truly experience them? Colopatiron had felt the influence of some emotions ever since she had chosen to join the cause of the humans, but the amount was hardly that of a full scale of feelings. It was something that she wanted and did not want at the same time. Emotions were what brought humans above all the other creatures that inhabit the Earth and at the same time, it was the very thing that brought on their down fall.

Sam was startled to find himself back in the poorly decorated room that he felt that he and Dean were paying too much for. What was even more surprising was that the room has several new inhabitants and their eyes were all fixed on him. Some of their eyes were filled with distain and others with curiosity and just about all of them were sporting the patented Angel head tilt. With this, the more studious Winchester felt that it was safe to assume that they were indeed Angelic. The appearance of the small celestial army brought mixed feelings to his gut. On one hand, they could help them defeat Abaddon and the Hell Hounds and on the other hand, they might smite him for his habit of drinking blood. Fortunately, none of them seemed to be jumping at the smiting suggestion, but then again, they weren't really talking either.

"What's up?" Dean broke the silence and all of the eyes flitted in his direction. Then, comically enough, three of the Angels heads tilted upwards as if searching for the literal answer to Dean's question. Sam had to fight to stifle a laugh. _They honestly couldn't think that…_

"The ceiling," the Angel, whose vessel was sporting jet black hair, which was peppered with red highlights, with heavy bangs and wearing a skull T-shirt, answered in an even tone with a straight face. Sam was able to stifle one's typical reaction to this scenario, but Dean did not have that level of self control. He watched as his older brother bent over and burst into a laughing. Even Cas seemed to be having difficultly stifling an outburst. The Angel next to him, a blonde with her hair done up in a pony tail, walked over and whispered something into her confused brother's ear; probably explaining the meaning of Dean's question. The young man's eyes opened wide in confusion. The blonde then proceeded to walk up to his brother and smack him on the back of the head.

"Do not ridicule Samandiriel!" The blonde reprimanded sharply and raised her hand, preparing to hit Dean again, but her hand was caught by a red-head in an army uniform.

"Nisroc! Corporal punishment is not the answer," the man hissed, "It is not this man's fault that his predecessors developed such an odd greeting."

Sam, once again had to bite back his laughter. He wasn't sure want was funnier: The misunderstanding of the question, "What's up?" or the fact that Dean had almost gotten beaten up by a petite blonde. Nisroc and Samandiriel continued to bicker in hushed tones until a leather jacket clad man placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Their fighting ceased instantly, mumbling apologies and then falling silent. During the hastily spoken apologies, Sam heard them refer to the man as Charoum. Then there was more silence, but he had the eerie feeling that the Angelic inhabitants of the room were still communicating. Their eyes would focus on one person as if they were speaking and then shift to another person and focus on them in the same fashion.

While his comrades were immersed in their wordless conversation, Sam took the opportunity to take stock of those in the living space. There were ten people in the room counting himself. Dean and Castiel he knew, but the others were a different story. He was able to name most of them. The one who had stopped the fight was called Charoum. Judging by the way that Nisroc (the blonde) and the soldier who had yet to be named had obeyed him so quickly, he was the leader. Samandiriel was the confused one. Colopatiron was the one who had watched them in the park. That only left three of them nameless. First, there was army guy. Second, there was a brunette who was dressed in a blue, button down shirt. His dark brown eyes were filled with boredom. The third was a girl, a little girl. She was in flowered pick dress and her dark curls were done up in pink bows. Sam found himself wondering why he hadn't noticed her right off of the bat. She must have been obscured by one of her taller siblings.

"You guys want to tell us what's going on?" Dean burst out, clearly becoming impatient with being kept out of the loop.

"What's going on, Dean?" Nisroc laughed bitterly, "The demise of New York City is 'what's going on'."

Abaddon stepped away from the window that had such a glorious view of the destroyed street below. Ever since the last of the Emergency Personnel had left the scene, it had ceased to amuse him. It was time to move onto the next stage of his plan: causing chaos on a larger scale and dealing with his former brethren. There weren't really any specifics on how to carry out these tasks and that's the way he liked it. Free to improvise. Abaddon had begun to deal with the Angels by casting a nasty little spell that stopped them from locating their human charges. The thought of how much this would annoy them brought a gleeful grin to the Demon's face.

As for the more chaos part, Abaddon had decided to let his friends handle that for now. The sky began to rapidly darken with storm clouds. _Nicor must be getting started, _the fallen Angel observed. The water Demon had always had a fondness for tempests. He wondered if the New Yorkers had ever experienced a Hurricane. The rain and hail began to fall in heavy sheets. The former Angel death could picture pedestrians running for cover from the sudden onslaught of liquid from the sky. _Run_, Abaddon taunted his mental image, _Run for your lives._

_Once again, thankyou for reading! Reviews make me very happy and makes me write faster! Have a great day! :)_


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